


Letters of the Law

by afterandalasia



Series: Femslash100100: Around the Clock [7]
Category: Aladdin (1992), Frozen (2013)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Community: femslash100100, Crossover Pairings, F/F, Ficlet, Friendship/Love, Getting Together, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 10:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7263481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unorthodox solution presents itself to the problem of marriage that Jasmine faces.</p><p> </p><p>09:00 - Planned</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters of the Law

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for the femslash100100 [prompt table](http://femslash100100.livejournal.com/3727.html) "Around the Clock", specifically "09:00 - Planned".

Living in the Palace does not exactly mean that Jasmine has many opportunities to make friends. So when a visiting Queen Marisol of Eldora comes to a neighbouring Kingdom, Jasmine begs her father to extend an invitation to Agrabah as well.

Eldora is more northerly than Agrabah, coastal, and apparently less conservative. Queen Marisol's arms are bare, her hair rolling lush and dark down her back, as she rides at the head of her retinue to the Palace gates.

Jasmine has certainly never had a female friend before. Marisol is a few years older, but is the only daughter of a King as well - so funny, King instead of Sultan, but they are further north after all - and in no time at all they get along splendidly. Jasmine's jealousy over Marisol's freedom cannot overcome her liking for the woman and her stories, or her sadness that Marisol has found herself orphaned and ruler so young.

"We must stick together," said Marisol, her arm through Jasmine's as they walked about the Palace gardens. "I hope your father reigns for many years yet, may Allah grant him long life, but one day you will be a ruler as well."

"Not I," Jasmine scowled. "My husband."

"Your husband will rule instead of you?" said Marisol, clearly shocked. Their steps halted, and she turned to face Jasmine. "What law is this?"

"An old law. The same one that requires me to be married by my eighteenth birthday," said Jasmine.

The horror on Marisol's sweet face took her rather by surprise; Jasmine had always been more angry at the law than horrified by it. But she supposed that would not be the case for everyone. "Are you at least being given the chance to meet this required husband?" Marisol managed finally. "You said that you did not leave the Palace much."

"Oh, plenty of princes have come to see me," she said. "Or, more rightly, to meet the Princess of Agrabah."

From the way that Marisol pressed her lips together, Jasmine knew exactly what her dry tone had conveyed. No doubt Marisol also had men who courted her only for her power and wealth, and did not care one whit for the woman beneath.

"Princes can be like that. You might have better luck elsewhere."

"Oh, no," Jasmine said. "It must be a Prince."

"The law demands a prince?"

"The living ruler of a kingdom, or the direct descendant thereof," said Jasmine, quoting the law with a mocking-sweet tone. She shook her head, looped her arm back through Marisol's, and tugged them to a walk again. The gardens did not seem quite so beautiful, though; they were just the same paths she walked every day, the same flowers she saw every year. Marisol's presence had made the flowers seem fresh again, but now the effect seemed to have faded. "And of course, my father thinks that the best for me would be the first son of a ruler, at most the second." She heaved a sigh. "I know that he means well, and does not want me married to a husband that would resent me for my power. But he might as well parade peacocks in front of me instead!"

Marisol's hand came to rest on their linked arms. "The living ruler of a kingdom?" she said.

"Yes?" Jasmine looked at her curiously. She had always supposed the specificity was to make sure that deposed royal lines did not try their luck, more than to stop her from being married to a corpse.

Marisol gently tapped her fingers, then gave Jasmine a conspiratorial smile. "I think I may have just found a solution."

 

 

"This is quite irregular," said the Sultan, astonishment still written clearly on his features, "I am not sure..."

"The law is quite clear," snapped the vizier. Jafar, that was what Jasmine had said his name was. Marisol gave him a calm, collected smile, of the sort that had fooled far too many older men into thinking that she did not have any sort of head for politics. Perhaps even the Sultan thought that this was a young girl's silliness, and not a calculated move to ensure that Jasmine was not forced into an unwanted marriage, that Marisol might never be threatened with the same, and that Eldora might claim the most privileged position available among Agrabah's trade partners.

Most of all, though, that Jasmine was not forced into an unwanted marriage.

"Indeed?" said Marisol, as if in surprise.

"Only a Prince-" Jafar started to say.

"A living ruler, or the descendant thereof, or so I have heard," Marisol interrupted, with just enough edge to remind him of his place compared to hers. She met his eyes until he flinched. "Whether that living ruler be Sultan, King, Prince... or Queen... it does not specify."

"Please, father," said Jasmine. She finally stepped away from Marisol's side, alighted the steps to her father's side, and clasped one of his hands in both of hers. "I agreed that I would keep to this old law so long as I might have the choice in who I wed.  And I will marry before my birthday - I will marry tomorrow if you ask," she looked back to Marisol, eyes and voice softening, "so long as it is to Marisol."

For a moment longer, the Sultan looked uncertain.

"Your Majesty," said Marisol gravely, "you have my word that I mean nothing but well to your daughter and your Kingdom, and nothing but happiness for her besides."

"Sire," Jafar started again, voice silky but expression belying his fear.

The Sultan huffed. "Oh, do be quiet, Jafar, you've been pushing the girl to be married for two birthdays now, and if she has finally chosen someone then you of all people should be happy about it."

His words were said without turning round, and as a result only Marisol could see the look on the vizier's face, as if he had been given a slice of lemon.  Marisol made sure that her expression was no more telling than a polite smile as she continued. "If it pleases Your Majesty, I can have a scribe of my own kingdom bought to explain the legal matters as pertain to Eldora. I expect it would be unseemly for the bride to speak on her own behalf."

"Yes, yes, a very good idea," said the Sultan, clearly warming to it. The adoring way that Jasmine was looking at Marisol might have had more than a little to do with that. "Jafar, go find us a couple of servants to bring in some refreshments. I will speak on behalf of my daughter and this, uh, this scribe can speak on your behalf, Your Majesty."

With a slight bow of her head, Marisol turned her eyes downwards, but did not miss how angry Jafar's footsteps sounded as he swept away. She had seen men like him, with more hunger for power than any prince she had ever met, because they had known what it was to be without any at all before they had a taste of it. They could be the best of advisors, or the most dangerous.  She would have to talk to Jasmine, about whether the princess also had her suspicions, but that could wait.

They had all the time that they needed, after all, especially now that her time would no longer be slipping away from her like sand through an hourglass.

Marisol had promised Jasmine happiness, and meant it; but above all else, silently, she promised her  _free_.


End file.
